A familiar refrain from when I was young, and one passed down a generation to berate my own children. And wanting to set a positive example, I abandoned what’s left of my bicycle collection this weekend, to spend it outside sometimes in the rain and mainly in the cold.
Still it wouldn’t be a proper Bank Holiday would it, without hail? Such are the vagaries of the British Weather, that on one day I dug a massive trench, and the next I emptied a moat of a similar size. The new Chicken run is not yet “out of the ground” with thin cross-hashed wire ready to be installed some 12 inches below mud level. With all the other anti-fox precautions we’re taking, it’s tempting to just get a couple of machine guns in really to finish it off.
The poor chickens will think they’ve entered some kind of Poultry Alcatraz
I have managed to cobble enough of a bike together to ensure my extra days holiday will be spent riding in Exmoor rather than staring moodily out of the window. There is tremendous pleasure to be taken in doing something your really enjoy in the happy knowledge all your friends are at work. It does mean getting up as early as if I was trudging into the office, but I’ll be heading due South the a truck full of car and a switched off mobile phone. And even the forecast looks promising.
Something’ll go wrong, it generally does. Not today I took my toys to a big hill in Wales and spent a happy part of the day throwing them off it. That one isn’t mine as I’m the shivering wreck behind the lens wondering if I can borrow a sheep to keep warm*. Fun tho and my new rather expensive, somewhat fragile and eyeball twitching fast flying toy managed a whole number of flights and landings where it was then available for re-use. This has not always been the case.
If I remember I’ll take a camera tomorrow to show you what a great time I had. If I forget to post any pictures, be assured I’m still having a great time 🙂
* Not for anything else. Whatever you’ve heard. Nothing was ever proved.